


Avowed

by Lady_Firefly



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, F/M, Teens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 20:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8815489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Firefly/pseuds/Lady_Firefly
Summary: Was trying to finish the other fic I have hanging... but could only write this instead. Unbeta'd... so please be forgiving of spelling mistakes in this festive season!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Was trying to finish the other fic I have hanging... but could only write this instead. Unbeta'd... so please be forgiving of spelling mistakes in this festive season!

Sansa almost tripped over her own skirt as she came to an abrupt stop outside the door of her mother’s solar. Her mother sounded like she was roaring and Sansa’s heart constricted with an unknown fear.

 

“I will burn down this whole castle, Ned Stark! You cannot make a decision like that by yourself! That’s not the marriage I have! _That’s not the marriage we had!_ ”

 

Sansa gasped at her father’s name and her mother’s tone. She didn’t want to be at this door, because on the other side of it something was very _very_ wrong. But she couldn’t move away either.

 

“Cat-” Her father sounded tired and feeble, “Cat, calm down. I thought the marriage we have is filled with your trust on me.”

 

“Don’t you dare cast aspersions on my devotion when it’s you trying to play with my daughter’s life!”

 

“ _Our_ daughter?” The displeasure in Ned’s voice was unmistakable.

 

“Oh, now you care?! Then why do you want to throw her future away by tying it to the bastard who some in the north whispers might even be yours!”

 

Sansa gasped and clutched the balustrade of the huge oak door for support. She didn’t understand anything, but she had a dreadful feeling in her stomach. Like she wanted this incomprehensible conversation to be a dream that never took place in reality.

 

“I would only care about the rumors if people I cared about believed in them. _Do you?_ ” Even Sansa heard the implicit warning in her father’s voice on the other side of the door.

 

There was a bit of a pause and then her mother’s hissed voice, “Your honor dictates you too much to let _that_ ever happen. But even if that’s not true, they’re still cousins. And he’s _still_  the bastard of Winterfell. Why do you want to tie my beautiful, _precious_ Sansa down with that deadweight around her neck?!”

 

Sansa's head snapped up and she took two hurried steps back to escape this entire reality and promptly fell on her ass when her steps got tangled in her long skirts. She couldn’t escape the roused voices even as she wished as such.

 

“ _He’s a Stark, Cat!_ ” This time her father seemed to roar and Sansa sobbed her first tears of the night. “He’s not deadweight! He’s a bloody _Stark_ and Winterfell is as much his home as our children’s!”

 

“But he’s a _bastard_ , Ned! It was bad enough that Brandon dishonored his betrothal to me by dallying with a tavern wench, but he got her pregnant without ever even marrying her! And I will not let you tie my eldest, precious daughter to that legacy!”

 

Sansa tried to crawl away from the door and got her knees tangled in her voluminous skirt. _Damn this new dress for the royal feast that she had so lovingly sewed_.

“Cat, do not dwell on Jon’s illegitimacy! Gods, I shouldn’t even be _any_ drawing attention to him with the royal retinue present… Don’t focus on Jon, focus on the prince! You’ve clearly lent ears to the rumors about me and Jon, haven’t you heard the rumors about the golden-haired prince? Have you _looked_ at Robert and him together? Do you know what _that_  could mean for our daughter in the long run? Try to understand, my love! And I have to tie Jon’s legacy to Winterfell, to the North. I promised-”

 

Sansa was finally able to get up to her shaky legs and then she ran, sobbing, for her own chambers.

 

~~~

 

Sansa had gone to her mother’s chambers to fetch her to comb her hair as she always did before feasts. But after eavesdropping on that conversation, the last thing Sansa cared about was her hair. Her mother, however, eventually remembered their ritual and came to her chamber with a resigned expression.

 

All the time Catelyn Stark ran the comb through her daughter’s hair, she talked about trusting one’s parents, she talked of duty, she talked about things beyond one’s comprehension at present time but becoming clearer later and what not. At last, Catelyn reminded her daughter to always wear her courtesies like her armor and never let the world see her inner turmoil.

 

So Sansa sat with a stony face when her father announced her betrothal to his nephew Jon Snow upon the King’s loud suggestions that perhaps Houses Stark and Baratheon could be more than friends in the coming years.

 

Ned made the announcement before the Crown Prince’s name could be mentioned, so although King Robert looked taken aback for a moment, after a thundering pause he just made a stern face and sat back, once again reaching for his cup and looking interestedly at a serving maid. The queen looked at Sansa as if she was trying to solve one of Maester Luwin’s counting problems in her head. Sansa’s lady mother looked carved out of stone.

 

The whole table Sansa was sitting at seemed to emanate bewilderment in waves. Robb’s head was rocking back and forth between Jon and Sansa like a pendulum and his mouth hung open. Theon stared at Sansa with a scowl. Arya glared at Sansa as if she was sure Sansa was the reason behind the dampening of everyone’s jolly mood as usual. And Jon looked the only person who was shocked even beyond Sansa had been when she had first eavesdropped on her parents. In fact he looked like he might burst into tears soon at this unexpected, unwanted attention on him.

 

Sansa heard Beth Cassel muffle a sudden giggle behind her hands and saw that the girl was looking at Jon’s weepy face. Sansa felt her face flame with shame and then felt something cold and wet hit her face with force. She snapped her head around to see Arya holding her empty wooden spoon up. “What did you do now?” Her younger sister accused with all the fire in her tiny body.

 

For once Sansa was thankful to her sister as her antics gave Sansa the perfect opportunity to give in to her feelings without actually revealing her feelings. She burst into actual sobbing tears.

 

Sansa got up crying as she heard Robb murmuring “Okay, off to bed with you!” and carrying Arya away. She ran out the doors of the main hall, unseeing of where she was going, and only stopped when she found herself in the empty barn.

 

Sansa sat on a pile of dry hay and cried her heart out, until Robb came and found her. She felt Robb come closer and then hug her shoulders with one arm, “Don’t cry, San! You’re crying yourself upto a state here! Everything is going to be alright! You’ll see-” Sansa turned teary eyes to Robb and asked miserably, “How is-”

 

 

“Robb! I have been lookin-” Jon came to an abrupt stop as Sansa stood from under Robb’s arm and came around to stand facing him. Her eyes immediately flashed at the sight of Jon.

 

“How Robb? How is everything going to be alright when the bastard who has been ruining mother’s life by strolling around Winterfell all our lives is going to be ruining my life now by stomping all over it?” Sansa shouted in her misery and hoped she had used the word she had heard some stewards use about Jon with enough force to hurt him.

 

 

It seemed she had been successful, because as Robb clutched her elbow and said “Sansa!” in a reproachful tone, Jon came closer in hurried steps and furiously whispered into both Sansa and her brother’s face, “I didn’t ask for it! Any of it! I didn’t ask to be in Winterfell. I didn’t ask to be in your mother’s life! I didn’t ask to be in your life! _And I sure as hell didn’t ask for you to be dumped in mine!_  Seven hells, _you!_ You, who none of us even pick to be in our team for a game of “Kings and Castle” because you’re just _that_ useless at everything important!”

 

“Jon!” This time Robb and his reproachful voice were turned on Jon who immediately backed off as soon as his heat-of-the-moment tirade was over.

 

Sansa pushed past a thoroughly flustered Robb and an again weepy looking Jon on a sob and they didn’t talk to each other for even longer than her lady mother kept her silence to her father.

 

And her lady mother forgave her father only after Bran had the fall.

 

~~~

 

Sansa supposed the Crown Prince was nice enough. He invited her to take walks around Winterfell with him. He requested her to show him around the Godswood and the Hot Springs. He had his curtsies and his courtesies sorted and Sansa could tell by his lingering looks that he liked her. And it was in those moments, that Sansa felt blind with rage against her lord father.

 

So naturally she had come to an abrupt stop when she came upon raised voices near the barn on her way back from the Godswood. With disconcerted sadness Sansa heard the Crown Prince’s otherwise gentle voice wondering to someone in a mocking voice if Sansa’s little brother was already dead since Summer was howling below his window. Then someone else came upon him. Tyrion Lannister’s refined voice was easily distinguishable as he asked the Prince if he had paid his respect to the Starks. Prince Joffrey’s just complained in a high-pitched whine that “he cannot abide the wailing of women”. What followed next was even more shocking as Sansa heard sounds of slaps and Joffrey’s wails that he would tell his mother and Tyrion’s angry retorts. Sansa’s head was reeling with shock and she hastily took a step back to go round the castle to get inside through the kitchens, but her shoes stepped on horse shit and to her supreme dismay, she slipped and would’ve fallen on her ass if she hadn’t clutched on to the huge cart of hay that had been screening her from the Prince and his uncle.

 

Sansa saw the exact moment the other two men, and the Prince’s guard, the Hound, became aware of her presence. She also the way Prince Joffrey’s face contorted as if in rage and his eyes hardened on her as if accusing her of spying or something. Sansa hurriedly bowed and curtsied and tried to move past them towards the castle when Joffrey’s voice stopped her.

 

“Come take a walk with me!” He sounded as if he was still complaining about something. Sansa swallowed past the bile that rose in her throat and said in a low voice without looking at him, “My Prince, I’d be honored, but I have been praying for my ailing brother in the Godswood and would like to complete my prayers by his bedside now for his speedy recovery. I would like to beg for your forgiveness and another chance to accompany you on a walk at a more opportune time later?”

 

Joffrey’s face crumpled as if Sansa had insulted him gravely and Sansa’s stomach swooped to her feet. Joffrey looked he was about to bark an order to his guard at the same time that Tyrion took a cautionary step towards his nephew. Sansa felt she wanted to cry and that was when someone stepped in between herself and the three men.

 

“Your lady mother is looking for you.” Jon said quietly to her. Then he turned to the other men, “Your grace, your mother is breaking fast in her solar with your siblings. Your father is breaking fast with Lord Stark in the great hall. If you’d want to partake in some…” He broke off unsurely and then offered the most awkward curtsey Sansa had ever seen anyone perform.

 

But even awkward as it was, the show of obedience seemed to placate Joffrey enough that he momentarily looked away from glaring at Sansa. Jon came closer to Sansa while Joffrey glared at his uncle instead and whispered urgently with a sideways glance at Joffrey and the Hound, “Would you please allow me to escort you back to Bran’s chamber… right now?” Sansa nodded her assent readily and then did her own curtsies before hurriedly retreating towards the castle.

 

They were outside Bran’s solar when Jon next spoke to her and the misery in his voice made Sansa look back at him, “How is he? Has he really not woken up once all this time? Are his injuries- too-” He seemed too overwhelmed to talk and finally looked up at Sansa with anguished eyes.

 

And Sansa forgot everything about how much she hated his presence and his part in her miserable situation. At that moment, they were partners in their misery regarding Bran.

 

“Hasn’t Robb been to see you?” Jon rapidly shook his head, “He hasn’t come out since! None of you did! Lord Stark only came out when he had to accompany the King to the Great Hall and Maester Luwin and Old Nan were only vague. Rickon is inconsolable and won’t let me leave his bedside all through the night and Bran-” He sounded choked up at the mention of Bran. Sansa sniffed her own tears back and whispered so that she wouldn’t be heard inside Bran’s chamber, “He hasn’t woken up once. Maester Luwin fears- he fears Bran might never- he might never walk-”

 

Jon promptly came closer and cupped her cheeks in warm hands, “Hey! _Don’t_ say that! Bran- He’s- He won’t- He’s strong! You’ll see! He’ll come out of his sleep and he’ll be climbing the towers again, driving your mother mad, in no time! _You’ll see!_ ” He sounded more to be reassuring himself than Sansa by the end, but Sansa would take any form of reassurance at that moment, so she just nodded through her tears.

 

Jon touched around for something in his doublet and then quickly handed her a rough, coarse tiny wooden tower. When she looked up at him with confused eyes, he said desolately, “He loves towers so much. I crafted that sitting by Rickon’s bedside last night.” Sansa nodded understandingly and went inside after promising him that she would keep the tower over Bran’s craft chest so that it’s the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.

 

~~~

 

The couple of years that followed were of a bit of a revelation for Sansa as she saw Jon with new eyes and discovered many pleasant surprises about him. Whereas before he had seemed broody to Sansa, on closer inspection she realized his brooding to be his way of ruminating over things. And he did that a lot, which Sansa again found favorable as out of Theon, Robb and Jon, only Jon seemed at all capable of thinking before speaking and thus earning lesser punishments from both Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik. He also never seemed to tease girls incessantly as Robb and Theon had taken to be doing lately, thus making him more of a favorite with Arya and also earning him favors with Beth Cassel and Jeyne Poole. And he was a hero among the stewards as he was always getting down to work with them whenever he could.

 

When Sansa had her moonblood shortly after the royal retinue left Winterfell and had missed lessons for a couple of days, Jon had sent blue winter roses for her with Beth. The next day Jeyne had told her that Jon had sent his wishes to her to get better soon. Not that Jon and her talked any more or looked at each other any more now than they ever had, but even then he always made her feel like she had his attentions with these unexpected things.

 

On the third day of her first moonblood, Septa Mordane came to visit her and Sansa had thought her Septa had brought her sewing works over for her, but as Septa Mordane began speaking, her cheeks reddened. Her lady mother, who had been sitting by the fire in Sansa’s chamber to keep her company and attending to her own sewing, smiled at Sansa’s blushes when Septa Mordane began explaining about moonbloods and cleanliness to her. And then Sansa wished the floor would open up and swallow her when Septa Mordane jumped to another lesson, “Also, Sansa, we should have taught you about this right after you were betrothed, but now that you’ve had your moonblood, it’s high time we explained the workings of the marriage bed to-”

 

“Septa Mordane, that would be enough! I think you should go back and see what hells my youngest daughter has raised in your absence.” Her mother’s voice was hurried and held a warning, though Sansa didn’t know for whom. Septa Mordane seemed confused as well as she stood slowly while saying, “Certainly, my lady, but Sansa and Jon’s betroth-” Catelyn Stark cut off the Septa though and sternly, slightly irking Sansa, “I assure you Septa Mordane. Jon Snow will have little to do with the workings of my daughter’s marriage bed.”

 

Sansa blushed fiercely and for days to come had to fight perennially to banish the thoughts of Jon and her marriage bed from her mind. She had been mostly successful when Jon’s eighteenth name day arrived and with it happened _the incident_.

 

Apparently Theon had tricked Jon into accompanying him into Theon’s room where he had somehow managed to smuggle in a woman of questionable morals from Wintertown named Ros. Sansa had heard the commotion in the courtyard and come out of her sewing lessons to find Jon shouting and chasing Theon. Obviously, the commotion had attracted the attentions of her lady mother and lord father and Theon had been severely punished for this audacity. The ‘incident’ had later been revealed to her and the other girls by Arya, who had been spying on Theon to see what he had been upto since early morning. The highlight of Arya’s story came when she got up and imitated an irate Jon chasing Theon and she imitated Jon’s newly lowered voice perfectly as she hollered, “You prick! _I have a wife!_ I am to be avowed that I am hers! My eyes didn’t know where to go for a moment and _I saw!_ I am not supposed to _see!_ I have a betrothed! _A wife!_ ”

 

No one quite looked at Sansa as the wife-cum-betrothed in question was she herself, but everyone joined in the laughter. Even Robb joined in, who unfortunately had been listening to some of their people in the great hall as he had recently started to and had missed the whole incident except Jon’s chase of Theon. And Sansa smiled throughout than whole day. Arya was punished with more sewing because of her language while imitating Jon and Sansa giggled as she offered to help her sister. Jon didn’t look at her the whole day even by mistake. Not even when she wished him for his name day after supper. But Sansa was fine with that. She kept smiling to herself right up until her dreams claimed her.

 

~~~

 

The announcement of Sansa’s wedding to Jon along with Robb’s wedding to Margery Tyrell came as a shock to Sansa’s lady mother. To Sansa’s credit, she took the news more calmly, even blushing when her father urged her to start working on her maiden’s cloak.

 

Truth be told, Sansa was quite looking forward to her wedding… and her wedding night. _Oh yes, her wedding night._

 

Septa Mordane had never talked to her about her marriage bed again, and Sansa suspected her lady mother must have had talks with Beth Cassel and Jeyne Poole too as since then whenever topics of boys had come up, they had clammed up looking at Sansa in reserved ways. But one simply didn’t live in a household the size of Winterfell and with people like Theon without learning the basics of intimacy. Sansa had seen Theon on two separate occasions with two different girls, once at the hot springs, and once right at the hallway beside the kitchen at night. She knew to be intimate, first you were supposed to kiss, then embrace each other real tight, there were some jerky, writhy movements that seemed rather involuntary and disrobing was optional. So Sansa thought she was rather well prepared for her wedding night.

 

The wedding ceremony itself by the heart tree was very pleasant. It was a grander ceremony than it would have been if it had just been a bastard’s wedding, but the heir to Winterfell and the rose of High Garden was getting married there that day too. And in Sansa’s opinion everything was perfect, except that her mother was still barely speaking to her father without jerks and grunts.

 

When Jon claimed her for the first dance of the evening, Sansa felt like she’d melt. And when he looked at her hair and her face as if he thought she had hung the moon, Sansa did melt. And then Jon did something wonderful. He leaned in and whispered in her ear that most of the people here were excited for the bedding ceremony of the next Warden of the North and the Rose of the High Garden. No one wanted to disrobe him and people were certainly dreading laying a finger on Sansa while her father and brothers were all present. Then he asked Sansa with twinkles in his eyes whether she’d like to bail on their partially-own wedding feast and sneak-off to their new chambers immediately. Sansa has blushed furiously and hadn’t been able to meet his eyes when she had nodded her assent.

 

Contrary to what she expected, Jon hadn’t attacked her the minute he had shut the doors to their new chambers. He had offered her wine as he had taken off his cloak and then had helped her with her own. They had then drunk wine and proceeded to talk for a good length of time about anything and everything. It seemed they were both _quite_ interested in knowing the other, things that they already didn’t know from growing up together, like what they really really liked and disliked; things they had disclosed to perhaps nobody. Sansa wasn’t sure how, but at some point Jon’s head had ended up on her lap and suddenly during a lull in the conversation, he had reached up and had drawn her head down.

 

That had been her first kiss. And it had been _perfect_. Just a brush of their lips. Just their lips getting acquainted as their owners held themselves back with bated breaths. After a while Jon had sat up, taken her face in his hands and kissed her with more force. It had been strange at first; after all Sansa had never had two tongues in her mouth before. But then it had been pleasant after a bit when Jon had angled his head and done a thing with his tongue. When Sansa had felt Jon’s hand at her breasts she had shivered all over at the way it felt on her hitherto untouched breasts and then forced herself to calm down. When Jon started to undo the laces of her gown, she had reminded herself that disrobing was an option as she had seen with Theon and that serving girl at the hot springs.

 

 

Then Jon was kissing her again and it all felt quite wonderful and Sansa thought she was quite ready for that tight, jerky, wriggly embrace, so she tugged Jon against her by his shoulders. Jon huffed out a laugh against her shoulder and said in a breathless tone, “Whoa, sweet girl, let’s take our time.” But Sansa clawed at his shoulders and moaned in a whiny voice, “Jon! Now, Jon!” She saw Jon gulp hard and then he said in a weak whisper, “First, we’ll have to make sure you are ready for it.” His right hand left her waist. Sansa shook her head, “I am ready, Jon. I know you-”

 

 

Sansa froze as she felt Jon’s hand smoothly glide down below her navel inside her smallclothes and then his fingers gently brushed her where no fingers had ever traveled and he even gently started stroking her there. That’s all that it took for Sansa to come out of her frozen stupor. She threw Jon away with a violent push and stood up to her feet and scrambled away to put as much distance between them as she could. Her face was flaming and she was breathing hard as she half-sobbed, “What-?! Why-? How can you be so _depraved_?!” Jon’s face fell for a moment before he quickly stood up and put out his hands in a placating gesture towards her, “No, Sansa- Sansa! _No!_ It’s not- It’s- _How do I explain?_ Didn’t anyone-? Gods, I am supposed to do that to make you-”

 

 

“Liar!” This time Sansa shouted uncaring of who might hear her. It was bad enough that he had ruined her first experience with such a base act, and then he was lying to her even before they had fully stepped into their marriage? “I have seen people do it enough times. I have seen _Theon_  do it and _that_ is not something you’re _supposed_ to do!” Jon seemed to cower before her strong conviction as well as the fact that even Theon hadn’t done it and asked in a confused voice as he took a step back, “You aren’t supposed-? But Theon said-” And his confusion was the last straw for Sansa as that meant his depraved act had been just that! _A depraved act._ It wasn’t true that he was supposed to touch her anywhere near her private parts and he was confused about it or knew he wasn’t supposed to do it, and yet he had gone ahead and treated her such. Sansa felt acute shame, mortification and anger building up inside her. And then her eyes fell on Jon’s hand… the one that had touched her… that was now gleaming in the firelight. It was wet… _with her._

 

Sansa ran before she fainted with shame and ignored Jon’s calls behind her.

 

Sansa went straight towards her mother’s solar and banged on her doors. It was her father who opened the doors, the laces of his tunic undone, and Sansa decided she couldn’t be more ashamed tonight, so she averted her father’s gaze and ran and jumped into her mother’s open arms on the bed. She cried and cried. She heard her father leave after a while of running his hand down her back. Then she laid down with her mother and cried silent tears. It was only in the very late hours of the night that she alluded to her mother what was wrong. Her mother was silent for a long time and then she just told Sansa to sleep and promised everything will be better in the morning.

 

 

Sansa awoke the next morning to the angry voice of father in her mother’s solar. But it was her mother’s words that she comprehended first, “It’s not my fault. She’s _but_ a child. You expedited their wedding! She’s not of Robb’s age!” Her father coldly interjected, “She’s of Margaery’s age, Cat! If you’d only just talked-” “I don’t want to talk to my little girl about- Gods, Ned! Have you honestly forgotten? It seemed like only yesterday you were carrying her around the entire castle, refusing even me a chance to have a turn at holding her!” Her mother’s voice pleaded and next when her father spoke, his voice was soft as a wolf’s pelt. “She has always been rather innocent of the world’s ways, my sweet little babe. Anyways, Jon has been adamantly whining since morning about accompanying Benjen to the Gift and then to the Bear Islands. Personally, I think he’s running and don’t approve-” “Ned, let him go! Perhaps time is what they both need!”

 

 

When her mother later came to check on her, Sansa pretended to be asleep. She was just miserable because she knew by that time Jon would have left with Benjen and he hadn’t even deemed it necessary to say goodbye to her. Then she heard her mother talking to Maester Luwin in her solar ‘dissolution of marriages due to non-consummation’ and cried herself to a fitful sleep.

 

~~~

 

 

Jon came back more than two moons later without Benjen who had left for his station at Castle Black directly from the Bear Islands. And it was as if they were strangers. He looked at her unblinkingly and then his gaze slid off of her. They would pass each other at corridors; she’d halt, expecting him to say something, anything, and he would duck his head away and hurry off. She didn’t understand him or his behavior.

 

Did he blame her for something? What for? She hadn’t said anything to anyone about their wedding night. She had only vaguely alluded to her mother that Jon had done something shockingly unexpected, but somehow it seemed everyone had guessed that Sansa and Jon’s problems were rooted in their marriage bed. Margaery had once even approached her one day as an uncomfortable, yet resolved looking Robb had stood afar but nodded his head reassuringly at Sansa. But before Margaery could even begin to say something to Sansa, Catelyn had arrived and called away both Robb and Margaery, who had both looked they were journeying to the gallows.

 

Everyone was confusing around her now-a-days, and most of all her _husband_ , who behaved as if _she_ had somehow wronged _him!_

 

When the news of Jon Arryn’s death came, with it came the missive from King Robert. Lord Eddard Stark was to join him in King’s Landing as his new hand. The household was in an upheaval for days. Catelyn was again fighting with her husband. In the end, Lord Stark’s honor and sense of duty won out. It was decided that Arya and Septa Mordane would leave with Lord Stark and Catelyn would stay behind with the rest of the family. But then, over supper, Catelyn suggested Sansa leave with Ned for South too. Lord Stark looked once between Sansa and Jon and took in their drawn faces and said in a heavy voice, “I don’t think that would be wise-” Catelyn cut in with a gentle voice, “You know how Sansa has always wanted to see the South and poor thing hadn’t even gone beyond the Riverlands ever. Take her with you. Maybe she’ll become cheerful like before and perhaps that would help sort things over here.”

 

Lord Stark looked convinced enough at the talk of Sansa’s happiness, yet he looked at Sansa kindly, “Sweetling, would like accompany your sister and me to King’s Landing for a while? If you’d want, we could ask one of your friends to accompany us too.” Sansa chewed her bottom lip; she knew Jon wasn’t looking at her. He rarely looked at her since he got back. And when _he_ had left, he had neither _asked_ nor _informed_ her. Her mind made up, Sansa looked up at her father and nodded slowly.

 

Sansa was happy with her decision. She was happy she was able to show to Jon she could leave him to rot in Winterfell just as he could do to her. Yet as the day of departure closed in on her and all of her belongings had been packed, a strange kind of restlessness gripped her soul. On the night before their journey South, Sansa left their new chamber that they never resided in together, and went in search of him. She found him at the stables. He was checking the saddles over in a corner.

 

 

“I leave for King’s Landing tomorrow.” Sansa knew by the stiffness of his shoulder blades that he had heard her despite her weak whisper. But he didn’t turn. When after a long stretch of silence Sansa had given up hope, he spoke up. “I know. That’s why I was checking the saddles one last time.” Sansa wished he would turn around as she said aimlessly, “My packing is all done.” Jon again stayed silent for the longest time before he said with a shrug, “Arya’s packing was a mess. I saw when I went to give her her parting gift.”

 

_Oh! Arya gets a parting gift and I get your back!_

 

Sansa willed his back to turn for a few moments and she heaved a loud sigh and turned to go, “I should go and retire.” Sansa slowly turned, not really wanting to leave and so when she felt his warm hand closing round her wrist, Sansa’s whole being rejoiced and she whipped around readily. Jon was looking confusedly down at where his hand was on her as if he was not even sure what his hand was doing on her. And his unsure expression broke Sansa’s resolve to stay strong and she burst into sobs, “I don’t know how- _what’s happening_ … to me… around me!” Jon shook his head and looked at her tears as if they had offended him personally. And then he licked his lips and started stiltedly, “Take care of yourself in King’s Landing. _Always_ be in your father’s or Jory’s sight. Keep Lady with you at _all_ times. Take care of your father. Take care of Arya-” Sansa silenced him with a kiss.

 

For the longest time, Jon remained still as a stone against her touch. It was only when she whimpered against his lips did Jon moved into action and lightly pulled her closer. His lips kissed her and his hands touched her back, but they were like the ghosts of real touches. It was as if he was afraid of breaking her or simply afraid of touching her. When Sansa gave another whimper and wound her arms around his neck, he abruptly pulled back, “No! Tomorrow you’ll be… We can’t start something now-” He pushed her gently away from himself and then ignoring her cries of his name, he all but ran from the barn.

 

When they all left for King’s Landing the next day, Jon was nowhere to be found. Arya stomped and huffed and at last cried for Jon to be found and brought before her; Sansa just maintained her stony face and barely said a word to anyone as she left her home and her heart behind.

 

~~~

 

The first and last raven Jon received from his wife arrived about a few more days than a sennight after she had left. The letter looked nothing like anything Sansa would write, but it was her handwriting alright and that letter almost broke Jon’s heart.

 

 

 

> Lady is dead. Father did it. It was meant to be a punishment though Lady didn’t do anything. She was good. She was gentle. My Lady was lovely. They dragged me up from sleep and asked me to swear against either the Crown Prince or my sister. The Queen was looking at me like she’d like to use me as a pin cushion. I said I didn’t remember anything and now my Lady is gone. I hate everyone and everything here.

 

Jon replied as promptly as he could after he had let Ghost out to go join his siblings to howl for their fallen sister.

 

 

 

> My Dear Sansa,
> 
> Lady was the best. Of course she was good and had no fault. But don’t hold it against your father too much, sweet girl. As you were caught in the crosshairs, your father must have been put in a dilemma too. He loved Lady. Lady was the only direwolf I ever saw him carry around out of the six.
> 
> When you come back home, we’ll share Ghost. He’s already more than half yours the way he followed you around before you left. I’d even let you put ribbons and laces in his furs if that would make you happy.
> 
> Please take care of yourself. Don’t be too upset with Arya. As you lost Lady, she lost Nymeria that day too. Maybe not permanently, but it may well turn out to be that way.
> 
>  
> 
> I am eagerly waiting for you to come back home.
> 
> Yours forever

 

After that, no ravens came their way from Sansa or anyone in the King’s Landing. Except for when _the news_ came.

 

Jon had been at the Gift with Benjen when the raven arrived for the older man. Benjen had broken down over the floor and Jon’s whole body had been wracked with silent sobs. When they finally sobered, both Jon and Benjen started packing their horses for their journey. It was only when they actually mounted the horses did Jon ask his uncle where he was going.

 

Benjen announced his intention to go towards the Trident to join Robb’s army and when he started to pull away, he was surprised to see Jon slowing his horse down. When he just looked at Jon silently, Jon didn’t look up at him as he quietly explained, “My lady wife is in King’s Landing. _I am avowed to her._ She is mine and I am hers. Lord Stark had made me avowed to her. And so now, I’d have to go to King’s Landing to bring my wife back home.”

 

~~~


End file.
